Old Flames Don't Burn Out
by AtLeastIWasThere
Summary: After a few moments of silence Cassian spoke again, "This is the most decent dream I've had in a while" Her head jerked back up, "This isn't a dream," she said. Feyre had been right, Nesta thought, Velaris had the most beautiful night sky imaginable. Even in his current state the moonlight shined perfectly against his rough features, "Let me pretend that it is," PostACOMAF Nessian
1. Chapter 1

Starlight had fallen in Velaris as Nesta opened her bedroom door. Her feet met the cool hardwood floor as she pattered quickly down the hall. The townhouse had been quiet since Feyre had left, and while Mor continued staying at the House of Wind. Azriel and Cassian had been confined to the townhouse. _You made me believe that I could trust you! You lied to me and now look what's happened! I'm stuck in this retched body because of you._ She had said to him days prior when he demanded why Rhys had let her see him so wounded. In the back of her mind she felt a twinge of pain, suffering, but mistook it as her own.

Even more so Nesta knew this wasn't Cassian's fault. But the fire that burned beneath her skin needed to set itself on anything it could find.

Azriel and Cassian had both been moved into their own rooms on the bottom floor while Nesta and Elain had taken up refuge in Feyre's old room. There was another room available but Nesta wanted to keep her sister close. She wouldn't take the chance of letting her sister out of her sight again.

Her feet stopped in front of the door that led to Cassian's room, she had come downstairs to fetch herself a glass of water. But there was this pull towards the door, some inner part of herself said _go on, open it._ Her fingers reached and lightly gripped the brass knob. Finding the door to be unlocked, Nesta pushed the door open and lightly shut it behind her. She leaned against the doorway at the sight of the Illyrian, and his shredded wings. For a moment she found herself praying that they would heal fully. Nesta began to walk across the room; his face was in the shadow of the moonlight entering the window.

Although Nesta had never been in the room she would walk past it on the way to the kitchen and see Rhys or Mor sitting at his bedside. The look of anguish on Rhys's face, not only at his lost mate but also at the fact that he might lose his brother. "An Illyrian's wings…" Rhys had told her, "are their life. If anything were to happen to them that would prevent the Illyrian from flying… Well… Let's just say most of them would rather be dead."

It wasn't as if she wasn't thinking about him, Nesta had a damn good shield to keep up and letting that man break it down was something she couldn't allow. And yet he had. She placed a hand over her mouth as she looked at Cassian's face.

He was dying. This man, fae or not, had promised to protect her against all odds. He reached for her in Hybern as his blood pooled on the marble floor, as his wings were tearing apart. Cassian heard her cries and he reached out for her. She had seen him, the look in those hazel eyes, and the look of complete and utter _despair._ It made her chest ache.

She took a seat by his beside and stared at the Illyrian beauty that lay before her. He had certainly lost weight since Hybern and had barley spoken to her since she herself had arrived. Nesta could hardly blame him though, the things she had said to him. _Bastard-born-nobody_. She acted as if he wasn't good enough for her, and perhaps it was the other way around.

The bed in front of her began to shift slightly, Cassian cried out in pain at the pressure he had unconsciously placed on his wing. Nesta gasped reaching out for him and then retracting, his eyes opened to see her sitting beside him. He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back down, that sly grin appearing on his mouth, "Enjoying the view?" he said.

Nesta quickly folded her arms across her chest and scoffed at his comment, "You wish," she said, "You males are all the same Fae or not."

"Illyrian" him clarifying made her blood boil even more.

"Even worse then,"

After a few moments of silence Cassian spoke again, "This is the most decent dream I've had in a while." Her head jerked back up, "This isn't a dream," she said.

The only source of light came from the moon outside of the townhouse. Feyre had been right, Nesta thought, Velaris had the most beautiful night sky imaginable. The moonlight shined perfectly against the army commander's rough features. Even in his current state, the darkness made him extraordinary. "Let me pretend that it is," There it was again, the urge to be closer to him.

"What do you normally dream about?"

His mouth formed a grim line, "I don't dream anymore. I only have two types of nightmares now. The ones where I don't save Azriel and the ones where I'm laying on the cool marble floor in Hybern watching you die at that bastards hands, and me not being able to do a damn thing." She watched as his chest heaved and she contemplated what she saw in his eyes. Was it guilt? Rage? Both?

His fists balled up so tightly she could see the veins that pulsed alone his arms, "I'm going to shred his skin layer by layer for what he's done to you." She shivered at the promise his words held.

"I hope you do," she said.

Cassian studied her face, "Still keeping that mask on? You don't need to do that anymore." When she didn't say anything he continued, "I know you're scared Nesta, but I swear to you that my vow to protect you will not be broken again."

"How are your wings?" she said ignoring his confession.

He swallowed hard before answering, "The healers… they don't know. But Mor says… Mor says that there's hope."

Nesta nodded her head, "There is," he raised an eyebrow to her, "Hope, I have faith that you will heal fully before this so called war starts." They stared at each other for what seemed like hours before she got up and left, without saying another word.

It was the first night since Hybern that Nesta slept through the rest of the night.

The next morning Nesta walked down stairs and saw Cassian's bedroom door wide open, the bed was made up with clean sheets and was completely empty. "He's been moved to the House of Wind," Rhys said leaning against the kitchen door.

"Why?" Elain said before Nesta could speak.

Rhys pursed his lips, "One of the healers came by and told him that he would never fly again." Nesta's hand gripped the stairway; "He thought it would be best to be transferred to the House of Wind for the time being."

"So he's just going to rot away like some coward," Nesta's grip tightened on the stairway.

Rhys opened his mouth but was interrupted by Elain, "He just lost his wings Nesta…"

"And I've just lost my life!" She spat, "You don't see me hiding away from everyone."

"Is that not exactly what you've been doing your entire life?" Rhys scoffed. He walked into the kitchen before either one of them had a chance to retort. Nesta was his mate's sister and while he vowed to love and protect her as Feyre did, he would not stand idly by as she insulted his brother.

Nesta bit her lip as she glared at the empty bedroom. She spent the rest of her day as she always did, in the living room with Elain. But instead of reading or some other mediocre activity she just stared out the window of the town house. She could see how tall and ferocious the House of Wind was. It reminded her of her own heart, cold and lonely. Both had been built that way.

"Nesta!" Elain's raised voice broke her from her trance. She turned to look at her sister, "Are you alright?" Elain asked.

"I'm fine," Nesta said curtly before turning back to the window. It was then the front door of the town house opened and closed, The High Lord of the Night Court leaned against the door. He looked utterly exhausted, Elain closed her book and placed it on the coffee table, "Is everything alright Rhys?" her sweet voice sounded.

He sighed and slumped into the living room taking up residence in his usual armchair. "After the news this morning… Cassian has been anything but cooperative with the healers."

"I thought they couldn't…. heal him," Elain whispered.

"They can't," Rhys sighed his fingers rubbing his chin, "They have told him that the best course of action would be to amputate his wings." Even that caused for Nesta's head to turn away from the window.

Elain's hand covered her mouth, "Mor and Amren are trying to console him right now but… even my efforts are futile. This is something he's going to have to sort out by himself."

"No he won't," Nesta confided later that night to Elain. They all had chosen to eat their dinner in their separate rooms, but no one touched the food on their plate.

"Why do you say that?" Elain said moving closer to her sister who was still staring out of the window at the House of Wind.

"Because if someone's going to tell that Illyrian he needs to get over himself it's going to be me," Elain then realized what the others hadn't. "Go," Elain said.

Nesta raised her brow at her sister, "Not without you, I'm not letting you out of my sight again!"

"Lord Rhysand is a good man, fae, our sister is his mate and has our trust so I trust him as well…. There is a fire that is burning inside you Nesta," Elain's eyes diverted from her sisters as she too stared at the House of Wind, "And I think that you can find a way to extinguish it or at least control it there."

They found an old trunk in Feyre's closet and packed away some dresses and other things that Nesta would need in the house of wind. The trunk was small, old but still in good condition. Elain helped her escape out their bedroom window and Nesta waved hesitantly at her sister before walking down the cobblestone street of Velaris.

It was well past ten o'clock when Nesta began her journey on foot and after an hour passed she arrived at the first of 10,000 steps that led to the House of Wind. She gripped the handle of her trunk and swallowed before forcing herself to take the first step. The fire still prickled beneath her skin with every step that she took.


	2. Chapter 2

*****Thank you so much to everyone who faved, followed and reviewed chapter one. I really appreciate it and it's motivated me to update quicker than I usually would.

All my love,

Tay******

 **Chapter Two:**

The next morning at breakfast Rhys put down his fork and leaned back in his chair, his lips pursed and eyes furrowed, "Elain," he said, "Where is Nesta?"

Elain had never been one for lying. She had tried once when they were younger, Elain had broken one of Nesta's toys and tried to lie and say one of the neighborhood boys did it. But just as she was doing right now, she turned bright red and had the inability to maintain eye contact. "Oh she's you know…. Sleeping in." She watched her dainty hands move her silverware around on the table.

"Mhm," Rhys said, "So if I went upstairs right now and knocked on her door, she would be in there."

Elain looked up at the ceiling and opened her mouth before shutting it again. She didn't have a lot of time to contemplate what she was going to say to her brother in law that morning. "Maybe," was all her tiny voice could respond with.

The High Lord of the Night Court closed his eyes and sighed, "Where is she?" he asked again. Did none of the Archeon sister do as they were told? Apparently not, Rhys had just learned. They were all trouble and Rhys was just waiting for Elain to get into her own boiling pot.

"She left for the House of Wind," Elain confessed as Rhysand's eyes snapped up.

"She did what?" Rhys said. Not that there was anything wrong with Nesta going to the House of Wind. He had told them that the two sisters were free to roam Velaris, it's just the House of Wind was the last place Rhys thought Nesta would want to be. He stood up from the table, if she had indeed left soon after dinner she would be about three quarters way up the ten thousands steps. "She's not in trouble, right Rhys?"

He shook his head, "Depends on what you mean by trouble," was all he said before he stepped out of the townhouse and began flying towards the House of Wind.

 _I'm going to kill that Illyrian bastard,_ Nesta Archeon thought as she took yet another step up the mossy staircase. The stones that Rhys's ancestors had built had caused her whole body to ache; she'd kill him too for that matter. It was his ancestor's fault she was aching too, seriously? Ten thousand steps? What a family of over dramatic busy bodies her sister had married into.

She was starving too, the second thing she was going to do in that stupid fancy house would be to find something to eat. Maybe a slice of cheese bread, or some eggs, she was game for anything at this point. She was game for anything except her sisters husband swooping down right next to her, his wings shading her from the rays of sunshine.

"What do you want?" Nesta said almost too harshly.

"Good morning to you too Nesta," he smirked putting his hands in his pocket, "Out for a morning stroll?" She rolled her eyes at the way he beat around the bush.

"What is it to you?"

Rhys leaned his head to the side, "Tell me Nesta, do you always answer questions with more questions?"

"Maybe," she scowled at the High Lord of the Night Court.

Rhys could see that the fire that burned inside Feyre was a familial trait. There weren't a lot of people in Prythian who would cross a High Lord, especially Rhysand. But Nesta did not fear him, in fact she probably underestimated him, or maybe she just didn't care. He wasn't sure at the moment. "He's not in the best condition to be seen right now," he told her.

The shadow of his wings didn't hide the brightness that burned inside her. The fire crackled beneath her skin and burned through her eyes, "Well I'm not just going to sit idly by and let him suffer." She didn't know what it meant for an Illyrian to lose his wings, not really. But if it was the equivalent of wanting to die then Nesta understood. She had thought about throwing herself off of the balcony or starving herself because she too hated the body she was in.

Not human, but fae. A body she didn't choose, she was now everything she hated and it tore her apart on the inside. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see Elain being pulled underneath the Cauldron, the smell of Cassian's blood pooling on the floor, and she could feel her lungs being filled with the black water of the Cauldron. Nesta had fought the Cauldron off with every ounce of power her little human body possessed, but it was of no use.

She had died that day in Hybern. She hadn't been "Made" she had been reborn. Ripped from her own body and put inside of a new one. Nesta had had both life and death taken from her, and she didn't even know what to do with this second, unwanted life.

Rhys tipped his head to the side and looked at Nesta; her cheeks glowing red with hot rage, "If you insist," he said taking his hands out of his pockets. "Just to warn you," their eyes locked for the first time. Pure cobalt blue meeting violet, "This won't be pretty. The second you want to go back to the town house I will take you."

"I've been to hell and back," Nesta spat, "You think a temper tantrum from an over confident Illyrian is going to scare me,"

Walking through the House of Wind it became very apparent to Nesta that Cassian was not throwing a temper tantrum. There was no denying that the house was in complete shambles, Rhysand wasn't one who would care about family heirlooms being destroyed but just the sight of the destruction made her stomach twist. There wasn't a lot when they first entered the house but the closer they drew to Cassian's room the more chaos laid before them.

Pictures on the wall were crooked, claw marks on the antique wallpaper. Countless other things had been thrown around the hallway and adjourning rooms. And with each step Nesta's fist gripped tighter to her heart, what had she gotten herself into. Why did she care?

Maybe it was because the last thing she saw before the black bile filled her lungs up was Cassian and how if she could survive that she wasn't going to let him waste away the way she had thought about.

A small tug urged her forward regardless until Rhys stopped at the end of the hallway. A glimmer of grief passed in his eyes before opening the door. Nesta caught the gasp that almost erupted from her lips. There were feathers and blood and various bandages strung throughout the room. "Go away Rhys," If Nesta hadn't seen him laying on a couch near the fireplace she wouldn't have believed the voice belonged to him. "Mor and Amren have already been in today and I don't feel like throwing you out either," It was hoarse and gravely.

"You wouldn't let the healers in today either I take it,"

Cassian let out a deep snort as he picked at the wood on an armchair adjacent to the couch, "They can all go to hell,"

A deep sigh came out of Rhys's mouth as he lowered his head, "They're only here to help you, and at my request I might add."

For a while he didn't say anything, "I want to die. Leave. _Please Rhys."_

"Cassian," Nesta finally stepped forward, he immediately shot up from the couch looking at her as if she were some grand mirage Rhys had conjured. "What are you doing here?" he said.

"I came to make sure you don't waste away like I want to." Both males' eyes widened as she began to stalk towards him. As small as Nesta was compared to Cassian, when he was sitting she towered over him like a viper to her prey. "Last I recall you're alive, is that not correct?"

The Illyrian nodded, "I don't remember you being the one who was dragged from your home. Had to watch your sister, the only thing you've ever loved, die before your very eyes before they took your own body and shoved it into an over sized bathtub. While you _begged_ for some sort of mercy, how you _prayed_ that maybe that man would keep his promise as the black water infiltrated your lungs. And somehow through it all, all you managed to do was hate yourself until you finally had to give in only to realize that you weren't going to stay dead. That you were going to be turned into something you _hated._

"No," Nesta said pursing her lips, "No you just lost one part of yourself defending your friend. _Protecting him_. And you want to sit here and lay about talking about how you want to die when you can't even begin to understand what it's like to want death and have that taken from you too"

" _Get over yourself,"_ The words seething from her lips like hot coal caused for him to flinch.

But he didn't look away.

"I'm sorry," he said letting his fingers brush against hers, "I wasn't there to protect you like I said I would." It wasn't until it was sliding down her cheek did Nesta notice that she was crying. Crying out of pure white-hot rage and perhaps sadness.

"You should be." This girl had so much fire and all she could do was throw the flames back into the pit. No one but Cassian and Feyre had realized it was a defense mechanism to hide from her own emotions.

She turned back to Rhys, "Can you show me to my room?" Rhys only nodded before turning and letting Nesta follow him out of the room. She closed her eyes as she felt Cassian's perfectly calloused hands brush against hers for the second time. The tug that she felt erupted like a bonfire at the mere flicker of contact before settling back into the harmless flame that it was.

"Nesta," Rhys said after they had walked along the corridor for a moment, "Save it," she spat back at him.

"I meant no disrespect," He tried and failed again.

"Listen to me Lord Rhysand," The sound of his full name sent a shiver down his spine, "You might be my sister's mate but you are not my brother. You don't know anything about me or what I've been through or what I've done or will do. So unless you have news about Feyre you can keep the small talk to a minimum."

"Likewise," He wanted to say but didn't. They spent the remainder of their time together in awkward silence before showing Nesta to her room. She muttered a thank you before closing the door behind her.

Later that evening, back at the townhouse, Rhys sat up in his bed reading when he summoned a piece of paper and a pen.

 _When you're done tearing the Spring Court to shreds you might not have a mate to come home to._ He wrote before the note vanished into thin air.

It came back seconds later with Feyre's handwriting on it, _What?,_ she wrote.

 _If your sister keeps biting my head off the way that she does I might not have one by the time you come home._

 _Oh no… I hope she hasn't gotten you into too much trouble._

 _Oh it's not me she's getting into trouble,_ Rhys smirked, _It's Cassian you're going to have to worry about._

After a few moments of silence the paper came back, _I would say I told you so but I don't want to wound that Illyrian ego of yours._

Rhys let out a bark of laughter before scribbling his own response; _You don't give a damn about my ego._

 _True,_ was all that was written on the now crumpled piece of paper. _Can't wait to 'tell you so' again about another one of our Illyrian friends and a certain third in command._ Another piece of paper appeared. Rhys frowned before writing out his own smart ass remark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Cassian stared at the door after Nesta had left. He pursed his lips, she was right, but she was also wrong. How was it possible for her to be both? But even deep down he knew she was more right than she was wrong, he had chosen this while she had not.

That fire though, the fire that burned in her eyes was the only thing that had gotten him out of his rut. And while he still felt the need to lay in bed all day and wish for death's sweet embrace, there was a tug that begged for him to follow her down the hall. But he didn't move.

He didn't see Nesta for three days until he walked into the dining room to find her nibbling on a pancake. Her face looked hollowed out as she stared at the plate in front of her. When she looked up, her face-hardened at the sight of his hazel eyes staring at her. "I was wondering if you were even still here," he lied. He knew she had stayed at the House of Wind, he couldn't explain it but he just knew.

"I'm surprised you weren't waiting outside my bedroom like the dog you are,"

"Are you saying that you're my master?" He said with the hint of a cocky grin.

Nesta shrugged taking another bite of her pancakes, "I might as well be since you obviously can't take care of yourself,"

A small muscle in Cassian's jaw twitched, "Look in the mirror sweetheart and tell me who has issues of taking care of themselves."

With a slam of her fist against the table Nesta, with her newly acquired speed, rushed past him with a deadly glare. She was almost too fast for the Illyrian commander but he managed to grasp hold of her elbow, she snarled at him, "Don't snarl at me Nesta Archeon," He growled at her.

"I'll do as I please," she said her deathly glare still at large.

"I'm sure you will,," although a smile didn't play on his lips, his eyes crinkled like they would if he was smiling. Her chest heaved at the feeling of their bodies being so close. They hadn't been this close since Nesta had graced Cassian's favorite part with her knee. He must have realized this too because he leaned in closer, "Why did you come up here Nesta? To badger me to the point of bitter frustration,"

"I came up here so we wouldn't be alone." Her voice wasn't fire anymore, he noted. Instead it sounded like thick, sharp, icy daggers hitting his chest. But he detected something else rising deep within her; he realized how scared she was in that moment, from what he didn't know.

"How is Elain?" he whispered trying to change the subject.

Nesta took a deep breath, relaxing her body, "I think she's fine. We've been writing each other every day. She's definitely taking this whole Fae life better than I am. All she can think about though is that lanky red head." She crinkled her nose and Cassian snorted at Nesta's displeasure of Lucien.

"Lucien isn't all bad," Cassian tried to help her, "I think he's just stuck between a rock and a hard place right now."

She pursed her lips, "He let my sister rot in that beast's house." He realized she was talking about Feyre now, "How do you expect me to forgive someone for that?"

"When you learn to forgive yourself for what happened when you three were younger,"

Little by little her walls were coming down, "I-I didn't mean for Feyre to be our bread winner. I thought that our father would surely step up to the plate, fight for us… But he didn't." A single tear trickled down her cheek, "It should have been me," she whispered.

A rough knuckle reached up and wiped the tear away from her cheek, "Well think of it this way, if you had been the one to fend for Feyre and Elain… Feyre never would have gone to the Spring Court, defeated Amarantha, or come to the Night Court,"

"Meaning," Nesta scoffed interrupting Cassian, "That I never would have become a high fae in the first place."

" _Meaning,_ " Cassian chided, "She never would have become my High Lady meaning you would have never met such a handsome devil like myself."

She rolled her eyes, "You are so full of it,"

"You love it," he said taking another step toward her, their bodies flushed against each other.

"Do you remember what happened the last time you were this close to me?" She said, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I don't care,"

She looked down at his hands and then back up at his eyes. The stunning hazel reminded her of the caramel chews she used to eat when she was a child, before everything happened. He smelled like green leaves and teakwood, sweet and strong. "Do you want to finish eating breakfast with me?" she asked.

"I would like that," he said.

She released herself from his loosened grip and held her head high as she walked back over to her seat. He soon followed suit and sat in the chair right next to her, reaching for a stack of blueberry muffins.

He heard a scoff come from her chair, "Do you have a problem with my Blueberry Muffins?"

Nesta gave a small shrug but never broke eye contact as she reached for a different tray of muffins, "Lemon Poppy Seed are the best,"

When Mor found them thirty minutes later they were still arguing over what was the best flavor of muffin, "You both are wrong," Mor said, "Chocolate Chip are the best."

This sent the three of them into a bitter brawl about breakfast pastries.

When the fighting simmered down, Mor wiped her mouth and announced she was going to sit with Azriel for a while back at the Town House. Cassian and Nesta nodded slightly before she exited the room. Cassian turned back to Nesta who was also wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, "What?" she snapped.

He took a deep breath, "Do you want to walk around the garden with me for a little while? You know, to get some fresh air?" He held his breathe, waiting for the poisonous rejection he thought he would receive.

Nesta raised one of her eyebrows; "I've got nothing better to do."

Nature wasn't something that Nesta was remotely interested in, that was more Elain's niche, but she didn't mind getting out of the House of Wind. The past couple of days she felt like she was trapped behind lock doors but outside she finally felt like she had room to breathe.

Cassian showed her around the garden, pointing out the foreign flowers to her and telling her the secrets behind them. She couldn't tell if he was pulling the wool over her eyes or not but she didn't really care. They walked around the garden for what seemed like hours, and when their fingers brushed against one another it felt like years had passed.

She was being pulled again; she hated that, the feeling of someone tugging her in different directions. She felt cold too. An icy chill passed through her body when two different sets of hands lifted her up off of the floor. All she could see was a marble floor and blood. _His blood._

Nesta forced her eyes up to see her sister, Elain, lying on the floor. Feyre and her Court in complete despair. Her eyes darted between Elain who was soaked to the bone on the floor, and Cassian whose own blood had stained the marble floor. She was fighting she realized, she was trying to get away but no matter how hard her small body fought… it wasn't enough.

A hand, that was the last thing she saw before being shoved into the Cauldron, his hand, Cassian's hand _reaching_ for her. She wanted to weep for that alone, that he was still trying to keep his promise even with his shattered wings. Cassian was still fighting for her, and isn't that all she ever wanted? To not have to fight alone?

His bloody tanned hand was the last thing she saw before being propelled underneath the black water of the Cauldron. Oh how she shrieked before they pushed her under. The sound was utterly petrifying, she thought, so horrifying she wasn't even sure that it came from her.

She fought and fought to break free; from the hands holding her down and of the black magic surrounding her.

But she broke.

And soon the magic and the water were filling her lungs, drowning her in a wave of fear and despair.

Two hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her out of the water, with all her might she kicked and screamed and slapped the perpetrator. She had to make sure Elain was safe. She had to see if he was alive.

The two hands gripped her again only this time it was accompanied by a voice, "Nesta, you have to wake up,"

The voice was foreign to her, it sounded hurried, and it only plunged her further into sheer panic. Why hadn't the water killed her yet?

"Nesta, please," The voice was begging her now but still she wouldn't budge.

She wanted to die. She didn't want to emerge from that Cauldron alive if she wasn't human. To become one of the monstrous fae that she had heard so many horrible stories about, that was worse than death.

"Sweetheart," the voice soothed her, "You _have_ to wake up." In that instant her eyes shot open to see Cassian holding her arms. His eyes were wide and full of panic as he stared at her, "Sweetheart," he repeated the stupid pet name he had given her, "It was just a dream."

Still, she wasn't convinced that the dream was over. There had been many nights where she would awake from dreams within one another to find other horrors lurking in her own reality. She ran her hands through his chest, no blood stained her hands and she cried out in relief before collapsing back onto her pillows. "You're okay," she repeated that several times before her breathing returned to its normal state. Her heart was still ramming inside of her chest and even with her stomach still churning, Nesta wanted to ask how he knew she was having a nightmare but by the look in his eyes she knew.

He had seen it too.

He had seen himself lying on the marble floor of Hybern, Elain still on the floor, both of them in utter turmoil. Cassian had felt every drop of pain Nesta felt throughout the dream and still was there comforting her.

Not even saying a word Nesta flung her legs over the bed and ran to the bathroom throwing up the contents of her stomach. It wasn't long before a familiar pair of hands scooped up her hair and started rubbing small circles on her back. When she was done he handed her a damp washcloth to wipe her mouth. She couldn't even look at him as she continued sitting on the bathroom floor.

"It was just a dream," he whispered again. It was those words that had caused the tears pooling in her eyes to fall over, "You're safe now, they're _never_ going to hurt you again."

She turned around to really look at him; his eyes were still wild and full of panic. They were also filled with rage, the kind of rage that sparked vengeance. So Nesta did the only thing that she could do, she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder, "You too," she cried into the crook of his neck, "They're never going to lay a finger on you again." Slowly his hands found his way to her back again, one continued to draw those soothing circles while the other ran through her hair.

"I'm going to kill those bastards, every single one of the them." He meant it too.

"Together," she found herself saying. "We're going to kill them together." A string of pride ran down her spine, but the feeling didn't belong to her.

The two of them sat on the floor of the bathroom for what seemed like decade. When Cassian felt like she had calmed down enough he scooped her off of the floor and carried her back into her bedroom. "I can walk you know," she said irritably, when he didn't respond she said, "Should you even be carrying me at all? You're still healing."

"I'm fine," he said, "Despite you're big head you're not as heavy as you look,"

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath while wiping away the remnants of her tears away from her cheek.

The sheets felt cool against her hot skin as she was laid back down on the bed. Nesta drew her knees up to her chest as Cassian sat down on the edge of the bed. "How did you know?" Although she had suspected, she still had to ask, she wanted to see what he would tell her.

"I heard you," he swallowed.

"How? Your room is on the other side of the house?"

"I don't know," he tried to play dumb but she was smarter than that, "I just did,"

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered, her eyes staring down at her hands, "I probably look like such a disgusting mess right now," In all honesty she did. The panic and fear from her dream had caused her to sweat and the fabric of her nightgown had begun to stick to her body and her wavy hair was in all of the wrong places. The puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks were the cherry on top of that travesty

"No," Cassian said taking a piece of her hair and moving it behind her ear, "You're beautiful,"

Nesta reached down that bond and knew he was telling the truth but still pushed him away, snorting at the remark. "I'm serious Nesta Archeon," she looked at him, his nostrils flaring and his fists balled up, "You are the most beautiful creature I've ever set my eyes upon."

Small parts of her yearned to welcome him back into that embrace, to hold him again, to have him hold her. She wanted to have the taste of his mouth on hers and the feel of his bare hands across her back. She wanted it more than anything and she had the feeling that he wanted it too. Cassian had had many lovers, that she knew, he had had those lovers for various reasons and while she didn't want to be just another notch in his bed post… She desperately wanted to lean forward and press her lips, hard, against his mouth.

But instead she looked down at her hands; they were balling up the bottom of her nightgown. "I need to clean myself up," she said not able to look him in the eye, "Close the door on your way out,"

Cassian's mouth popped open and his eyes widened in shock. He couldn't believe that she was still trying so desperately to keep those walls up. Feeling utterly defeated he licked his lips before turning back to her. A whisper of a kiss brushed against her cheek, "I'll be here when you're ready," His breathe still hot against her cheek. Nesta closed her eyes as he lingered before feeling the mattress shuffle at the relief of his weight.

When the door to the bedroom closed she burst into tears once again, as she walked into the bathroom she could have sworn that she saw Cassian's shadow through the creak in the door.

Little to her knowledge he had stayed outside her room the whole night. He rested his back against the wall, fighting off any sleep in case she needed help again.

When dawn approached Rhys stepped into the House of Wind and noticed the Illyrian sitting in the hallway. _If you throw their asses out they'll just sit on the roof,_ he had once told Feyre. Apparently that same courtesy was extended to people other than his High Lady.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to all of the favs, follows and reviews! They really warm my heart up and make me want to update quicker. Pls any thoughts or opinions about my work is awesome, positive or negative.

Thanks,

Tay.

 **Chapter Four:**

Something different was definitely stirring in the air, Mor had noticed. She had noticed this for two reasons.

The dining room was unnaturally quiet for a Thursday morning.

It was unnaturally quiet due to the fact that Nesta and Cassian had refrained from partaking in their usual banter.

She eyed them both warily across the breakfast table; both of them ate in utter silence. Not really feeling like dealing with the tension that encompassed the room, Mor excused herself while taking her breakfast plate with her.

When Mor left the dining room Nesta cleared her throat, "I was serious last night," Cassian looked up at her, raising an eyebrow, "About killing them together," she said.

He nodded while placing the wadded handkerchief on the table, "Only problem is that I don't even know how to fight."

"Are you asking for me to train you?"

Nesta bit her lip and stared down at her empty plate, "Perhaps,"

"Get yourself cleaned up," he said standing up from the table, "Meet me downstairs in the studio at 2 o'clock. And don't be late," He winked at her before leaving the room. She scowled at the image of him leaving the room but did as he asked. She went back to her room to refresh herself, wiping her face off with a dry towel she noticed that her closet door was creaked open.

Inside, hanging on the door, was a brand new set of Illyrian fighting pelts. Made from the finest leather in Velaris, the mahogany sewn leather was absolutely stunning. They fit perfectly against her healing body and she even admitted to herself that she kind of looked like a bad ass in them. It made her feel powerful, in control. And on the brace of her right arm there was an inscription of some Illyrian word she didn't even know how to pronounce. She tied her hair back in one braid before turning down the staircase that lead to the studio.

Made of iron, the doors of the studio looked ferociously down upon her. Taking a big gulp before heaving the door open with all her might, she stepped inside. It looked like any other mortal training pad; she didn't see anything special about it.

Across the room Cassian was being seen by two healers who looked positively perturbed by him, "You're almost five minutes late," he said.

"Sorry," Nesta said with that quirky smile of hers, "but it takes time to make your hair look this good," The healers were removing the bandages from his wings; it was the first time Nesta had seen them since returning from Hybern. "And it would have been nice if these fighting garments came with an instruction manual on how to put these stupid things on."

"I could show you how to take them off later if you want," he said cocking a wide grin.

"Maybe later," she purred only teasing him further. Their endless banter was the one thing about her life that felt normal. Other than her correspondence with Elain, everything felt jostled… out of place. Everything except him. The two healers rolled their eyes at each other before leaving the room to dispose of the bandages.

"They need to breathe," he said pointing at his wings, "or at least that's what the healers tell me,"

Nesta reached her hand out and let her finger tips brush over the shredded web of his right wing, "They are beautiful," he noted how wonderstruck she sounded, almost breathless.

"They were," he corrected her. He turned away when she threw him a sad smile.

"Sacrifice is a beautiful thing Cas," his ears turned up at the new nickname she had given him, which she instantly picked up on, "your sacrifice for Azriel's life should be praised, _never_ looked down upon. You're a survivor Cassian and you should wear it with pride."

His eyes fell to the inscription on her brace, "Looks like we're both survivors." His fingers tapped lightly against the Illyrian word printed on the leather brace.

"That's what it means?"

"It's the Illyrian word for survivor, I wanted you to see that incase you got discouraged during our practices."

She nodded, "Thank you," It was then that the healers came back into the room with fresh bandages to wrap the commander's wings in. He groaned a few times in pain if they had been wrapped too tight or if one of the larger wounds had been touched but for the most part he stared at Nesta, the cold exposure of an Army Commander. A warrior.

When they were done and had left the room Nesta looked up at him, "Are you ready to get your ass kicked?" she asked.

He let out a stark laugh, the first real laugh she had heard from him since Hybern, "You're pretty cocky today aren't you sweetheart?"

"I seem to recall the last time we went toe to toe _I_ was the one that came out victorious and you left with your tail, amongst other things, between your legs."

He smiled at her, a real smile, at the memory of the two of them. Getting out of his chair he strode over to her, his smile never faltering. "The key to intimidating your enemies is standing your ground," With her back facing him he whispered in her ear, "Which lucky for us you're already so good at it," Nesta held her breathe as their bodies were once again pressed into each other. Their scents mingled together as Cassian's hands held her body. "Stand your ground, be as firm as possible."

He moved in front of her and took her hands into the palms of his own. "While your knee may be a great weapon for _certain situations,"_ he chuckled, "Your fists will be your main tactic in hand-to-hand combat." Cassian, with her hand still in his, walked over to one of the punching bags. "I want you to hit this as hard as you can. Make the hits precise, try hitting the same place until you move me."

"Is this one of your training tactics or are you just hoping that this will simmer my anger."

"What would you say if I told you it was both,"

"I'd call you a prick," he chuckled again and hit his own fist against the punching bag.

As she was hitting the bag she thought that maybe she should have done this years ago. Hitting anything would have helped her manage the fire that burned inside her. There had been so many things she had been angry about growing up and hitting this bag of sand filled leather made her feel like she was defeating all of the skeletons in her closet. But the more she hit the bag the angrier she felt, this fire inside her was building up so quickly and there had been no way to get it out before.

Until now.

Her right fist suddenly punctured through the bag. Her eyes shot open and saw that her hand was on _fire._ That she had burned a hole right through the bag and sand began pouring out of it. Cassian, who had been holding said bag, stared at her in shock as she shrieked in fright. "Oh Mother have mercy," she whispered, still looking at her inflamed hand, after she realized that the flame didn't burn her. The fire didn't burn or crackle; it was as if her hand was one continuous flame. Her head shot back to Cassian, "Are you alright?"

"You're asking me if I'm alright? My hand wasn't the one that burst into flames just now."

"Only problem is, I don't know how this happened or how to get ride of it," Within her panic the flame was growing larger and was making it's way down her forearm, "Oh my god just do something!" she screamed.

"Listen, listen," his hands reached for her non-inflamed hand, "Just breathe, relax."

She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, "Good," he coached her, "Just imagine it like a candle, and just blow it out." The fire within her simmered down and when she opened her eyes again the flame was gone. She sighed in relief, "Thank you," she said.

"No problem," He said letting go of her other hand.

The doors swung open and Rhys walked in looking a little irritated. "Rhys," Cassian said, "I think we now know what gifts the Cauldron gave to Nesta." Rhys looked at the punching bag that was still sparking ashes and figured it out for himself what had just happened.

"You're not the only one," Rhys murmured, "Elain too discovered her powers early this morning."

"Is there a problem with that?" Nesta snapped.

"No," Rhys said, "Other than the fact that I don't want my home to look like the damned Spring Court."

Apparently Mor had set a vase of sunflowers at Azriel's bedside days prior. Elain, having grown lonely since Nesta's departure for the House of Wind, had taken up residency with Azriel and Mor whenever they offered. This morning when Elain sat next to Azriel she noticed how wilted the flowers had become and when her fingers came in contact with them they re-bloomed.

Ever since Elain had been sitting out side causing all sorts of flowers to blossom and grow. Rhys seemed particularly perturbed at the fact that Mor thought that it was not only cute, but also hilarious that the town house was turning into the Spring Court.

"People know that I live there Cassian," Rhys said.

"I think you're being a tad over dramatic," Cassian said.

"You know what Cassian?" Rhys said, "When Feyre comes home you both can form a club, where you can talk about how 'over dramatic' you think that I am."

"Sounds like a plan," When Cassian flashed his brother that signature cocky grin, Rhys paused and flash looks between him and Nesta. He groaned and left the room, waving his hand the punching bag had been repaired. "What the hell was that about?" Nesta asked.

Cassian shrugged, "Feyre was probably right about something and he just doesn't want to admit it." Nesta nodded, "I think that's enough training for the day," he said moving away from her.

"Already?" she asked, "Are you scared that since I have fire I might really be a challenge for you?"

"Whoever said you weren't a challenge?" He laughed before turning to walk out the door. Furious at his endless teasing Nesta did the first thing that came to mind. She took her shoe off and flew it across the room, she watched it fly until it slammed against the back of his head. "What the hell?" he asked, turning back to her and rubbing the back of his head.

Her other shoe was already in her hand, "Don't," he commanded. His voice dripping with a promise of force, but she disregarded it before flinging the other one. He caught this one in his hand and then let it drop to the ground. He glared at her with such frustration she hadn't seen since the first day they met. She smiled at the realization that their fun, was just beginning.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to all of the favs, follows and reviews! They really warm my heart up and make me want to update quicker. Pls any thoughts or opinions about my work are awesome, positive or negative.

Thinking about doing an Elucien spin off… thoughts?

Thanks,

Tay.

 **Chapter Five:**

The night sky above Velaris shined bright, the moon looking spectacular that evening. The bright yellow hues eliminating from it filled Nesta's room with what someone unfamiliar with the Night Court's pleasantries might consider sun light. But it wasn't the shining moon that had kept Nesta tossing and turning all night. For the last hour she felt bursts of fear and pain shudder over her body.

Feeling the restlessness defeat her, Nesta threw her legs over the side of her bed. She went straight to the bathroom where a blue cup sat on the side of the sink. She replenished it with water and as she began guzzling it down another stroke of pain flashed through her body. She ignored it again, but as she took the last gulp of water her vision changed.

She suddenly was back in Hybern, but it wasn't her usual nightmare. She could _see_ herself from what appeared to be the floor. She saw her body thrash and writhe against her oppressors as they tried to shove her into the Cauldron. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, a tanned hand appeared. Her hand, _no it wasn't her hand._

As quickly as the vision came to her, it disappeared.

Her chest heaved as she gripped the side of the sink, "Cassian," she whispered. How the vision came from him… she didn't know. Nevertheless she busted out of the bathroom and into the hall. She could feel that fear, that despair and hopelessness run throughout every fiber of her body. As fast as her feet could carry her she ran down the hallway. Perhaps it was the panic she was feeling or the fact that she was already sleep deprived, but the hallway felt like it was growing longer with every stride in her step.

She could feel her hair flying behind her head, the sweat from her run body clung to her nightgown. Nesta didn't even bother knocking on his door, and when it flew open what she had feared was a reality.

Covered in sweat and writhing atop the sheets was the Illyrian. Nesta had no control over her feet as she climbed on top of the bed to try and rouse him from the horrible thoughts he was having. "Cassian!" she cried grabbing the sides of his face. He flinched at her touch and his entire body violently writhed beneath her.

"Cassian!" she repeated, this time slapping him hard across the face, still nothing jostled the army commander from his nightmare. She continued calling out his name for a while, continuing getting flashes of his pain and of the nightmare he was having. She didn't even know she was crying until she nestled her nose into the crook of his neck, "Cas, please," she whispered feeling utterly defeated.

Not even a second after the plea had left her lips she found herself being pinned underneath him, his eyes wild and full of dark terrors. His hands had her wrists pinned against the hot sheets, not rough but just hard enough to keep her in position, "Cas," she whispered, repeating the nickname she had given to him only days prior. His eyes immediately drew back and the grip on her wrists loosened, "It was only a dream," she said trying to reassure him.

An exhausted sigh eradicated from his mouth and his head flew to the crook of her neck, his hands releasing her wrists. "Oh Mother," he panted, "I'm so sorry."

She thought he had realized that he had been sending her those images, those feelings. "It's ok," Nesta said while reaching up to run a hand through his hair, the other trailing itself down his bare back. The contact instantly soothing his woes, "it was only a dream. You're safe now."

"No," his voice sounded, hard, angry. "I'm sorry _I wasn't there for you_. I made you believe that you could _trust_ me and… I let you down." His hot, sticky body was pressed firmly against hers. Not in a sensual way, but in a way that told her that he was begging for her forgiveness.

"There is nothing to forgive," she whispered in his ear, her hand still running light strokes throughout his body.

"That's bullshit," he shuddered at the memory of what had happened to her. Her soul being torn apart and being reforged into High Fae, he had felt everything she did all while sustaining his own injuries. He hadn't forgotten and neither did she.

"Cassian," she said taking his face into her own hands. Forcing him to look at her, she squeezed his face so hard it might have shaken his head. His astonishing hazel eyes were full of the despair she had felt pass through her body, "No one is to be blamed," her voice sounded like freshly molded iron, "Least of all you." The words she had said to him when they returned to Hybern had certainly stuck with him and she feared for how long it would take for him to recover from the wounds she had opened.

"You tried," Nesta continued, the tears pooling in her eyes again, "and that's _enough_ for me." She pressed her mouth hard against his cheek causing for him to shudder above her for a completely different reason. "You're the only person who's _ever_ fought for me." She whispered so low that he almost didn't hear it.

The bridge of his nose found itself canvasing against her neck, the same spot he had kissed and licked so many months ago. "Please," his voice sounded hoarse, gravely against her throat, "Stay with me."

She didn't need words to respond to his plea. All she had to do was pull him closer to her and let them relax into one another; their bodies perfectly folded into one another. Nesta continued running her hands through his hair until his soft snores gave her the indication that he was dreaming peacefully. Her cheek nestled into the side of his head as her arms rested loosely around his chest. Soon she was able to drift off to her own dreams with his body keeping her warm all throughout the night.

It was the best night of sleep that either of them had had in years.

It was the actual sunlight that had caused for her to stir the next morning. Cassian's absence had been noted before she had even opened her eyes. Despite the blue quilt that had been placed over her shoulders, the lack of his body against hers made her feel cold. Thinking he had stepped out for only a moment she waiting half an hour to see if he would return.

But he didn't.

 _Typical_ , she thought begrudgingly getting out of his bed. The bed still reeked with his scent, teakwood and green leaves. The sweet masculine scent filled her lungs before she discreetly dragged the large blue quilt down the hall to place it in her own room. She prayed to the Mother that he wouldn't notice, she did not need him teasing her about that when she saw him later that day. Except for the fact that Nesta didn't see Cassian for the rest of the day.

After showering she headed down to the studio where she for sure thought he would have been. He had been a real prick about wanting to get back into shape for the upcoming war. The black door swung open and as hard as she tried to hide a smile at the mere sight of him it faded when she found the studio to be completely empty.

The dining room was empty, even the gardens were. Nobody in the entire bloody house knew where he was. And it infuriated her.

What a bloody coward, she steamed as she made her way back to her room. She certainly hadn't tried to hide from him after he stumbled upon her horrors. He hadn't left the house of wind, that was for sure, she could still feel him. He felt so… Alone. The very thing she had come to the House of Wind to prevent.

Despite her being pissed as hell at him for hiding from her she spent the next four days searching for him through every nook and cranny. She always started and ended in his bedroom, his scent slowly disappearing each day she returned.

Finding herself completely famished, Nesta adjourned to the dining room hoping to grab a quick meal before she continued her discrete search. Mor sat in her usual spot nibbling on a freshly made turkey sandwich. Nesta had actually come to like Mor, almost as much as she loved Amren. Mor was light and bubbly, it reminded her so much of Elain.

"Have you seen Elain?" Nesta asked her.

Mor nodded, "She sits with me when I go and see Azriel. You should really see what she's done with the house! I thought Rhys was going to rip every hair out of his head at the sight of his home looking like a summer home to the Spring Court," she cackled at the image of the townhouse. "She seems good, but she keeps inquiring about the mating bond for some reason."

 _That_ was certainly a conversation Nesta did not want to have with Mor. She was not ready to hand Elain off to some silver-tongued foxy prince of the Spring Court, friend of Feyre's or not.

"But she seems to be… adapting?"

Mor nodded, "Slowly, but surely. She hides her ears behind her hair. Elain thinks we don't notice but we do."

A long moment of silence filled the air before words were exchanged again. "He's in the library." Mor said quietly while taking another sip of her tea. "He refuses to eat anything," her fingers slid another plate across the table towards Nesta, "Please help him." Morrigan's pale eyes held true fear for her friend, her former lover, Nesta reminded her self. What could she do if even his former lover couldn't help him?

"You're different," Mor said. "Cassian and I… What we did all those years ago was a foolish mistake. One we will never make again. But he… he opens up to you in a way I've never seen happen." Her hand reached for Nesta's, "Just please, do whatever you can."

"We're helping each other," Nesta told her before grabbing the plate off of the table and making a b-line towards the library. Pausing briefly before opening the door, Nesta took a cool deep breath. She had never picked the library, as Cassian's choice hiding spot but the grand fireplace on the left side of the room was as much of an indicator as any as to why it was.

Days prior she would have smiled at the very sight of him, but the Cassian sitting in an armchair before her was different. He looked completely broken as he stared endlessly into the flames.

He jumped at the sound of her voice coming towards him, "I thought since you refuse to eat with the rest of us that I would bring your dinner to you myself." Nesta placed the white plate on the table in-between the armchair and the couch. "Mor made it, I hope you like turkey."

The rich hues of hazel swirled in his eyes as he stared up at her. It was with utter amazement at how she carried herself. Shields fully up, even when she was breaking at his cracking state. He mumbled a 'thanks' then reached for the plate to which she snatched away. A snarl flew from his mouth, "Ok so now you're going to deny me food?"

"Please," she said; letting her shields drop, "Tell me how I can help you."

"You can't!" he snapped standing up so abruptly it caused Nesta to stumble back. "I'm sorry," his voice cracked while taking another step toward her. His hand firmly placed on his heart, "I don't know how you can,"

"You're my friend Cas," she exclaimed, "I'm not just going to let you sit here and rot!" The swirls of hazel closed before his teeth bit down on his lip. She took another step toward him, nearly closing the gap between them. Nesta's hand reached up and cupped one of his cheeks, "You have to accept this, this life you've been given. Trust me I haven't even really begun accepting what I am yet… but you've helped me. You've always fought for me… and now I'm going to fight for you."

His eyes snapped open again at the vow she was making to him. "These wings," she told him, "Were a mere fraction of who you are. They are not all of your worth Cassian, and this guilt you've got bottled up inside of you… you have to _let it go."_

"Because we're both falling apart," her shields now completely dropped, "and I'll be damned if I just have to stand by and watch you bleed again." Her eyes prickled with unlawful tears as they both reached for each other. They buried themselves into the crooks of each other, desperately holding onto whatever they could. She felt a stroke of relief run down her spine as he relaxed against her.

Nesta found herself smiling at how perfect their bodies melded together, his scent infiltrating her lung and repairing all of the damage the black water had done to them. The scruff from his beard scratched against her brow and she didn't care if it felt like sandpaper, it was nice to feel something again. It was nice to feel him again.

When she awoke hours later she couldn't remember how they had ended up on the couch. Lying there perfectly cocooned against Cassian's body caused butterflies to form in her stomach. Over her shoulder she saw that the sandwich she had brought up had been completely devoured and that he was now napping against her shoulder, his hand still hovering above her stomach.

Trying her best not to stir him awake she turned over to get a better look at his face. She was relieved to find that he looked at peace; there was no wrinkle of fear or pain etched out upon his face. Nesta wasn't sure how long she had been admiring every square inch of his face when his eyes fluttered open.

That classic Illyrian grin greeted her, "Do you enjoy watching me sleep?"

He meant it as a joke but Nesta, who was blushing, muttered, "Maybe,"

His grin simmered down as he connected their foreheads, their noses grazing each other. Nesta was sure that Cassian could probably hear how loud her heart was hammering inside her chest, Cassian was sure of the same thing. The heat of each other's breath teasing and taunting each other made Nesta want to burst into flames then and there. But he leaned back causing for Nesta to groan louder than she wanted to.

"What was that?" he barked out a loud chuckle.

"Nothing," she muttered stubbornly avoiding his gaze. "What is it that you want?" He grinned as he held her chin in his fingertips causing her to make eye contact with him again.

A seductive grin formed on her lips that almost made Cassian burst into flames himself, "You know what I want," her voice sounded like rich velvet as she brushed her hips against his.

"Kiss me," she said. Her single command had his heart feeling like a stallion inside his chest. The first time they had been alone he had wanted to kiss her so badly he didn't even care that she kneed him in the balls. Now the feeling of wanting to kiss each other was mutual, at least he had hoped. He wasn't sure how much more damage his jewels could take after their last injury.

He did note how much he loved her smile; it was the first real smile he had seen come from her lips. The others had been playful, a mask, for who she truly was. Cassian savored one more look at her full, luxurious, lips before he brushed against them with his own.

Dear Cauldron did she feel like melting and turning to ash and soot in the palm of his hand. Beneath him and his tongue would be the perfect place to perish, she thought before forcing their mouths opening causing for their tongues to go into frenzy. Her tongue spent its time memorizing every corner of his mouth as her fingers held a tight grip to the grey tunic he was wearing.

A groan passed through her lips when he pulled away, he smiled at the noise he had caused. "If you stop I'm going to kill you Cassian," she growled at him.

"Well I certainly don't plan on bedding you on this tiny couch," She raised her eyebrow at him. She certainly didn't mind the idea of the two of them fucking in the library. Cassian leaned into her ear and whispered, "I want to have you sprawled out on a bed so that I can cover every square inch of you with my tongue," That devilish tongue that had frightened her so much the first time he had ran his mouth along her neck was now making her shiver beneath him.

"We have to be discrete," she said sternly as she grabbed his hand and yanked him off of the couch. Nesta opened the door to the library and peaked her head out, no servants and no member of the inner circle was in sight.

She felt bursts of joy at the sheer ridiculousness of them running down the hall like children, taking breaks to wrap their arms around each other and kiss the other. "I love that," Cassian said after hearing a sharp giggle leave her mouth.

Nesta licked her lips as she leaned against Cassian's bedroom door. Her face-hardened at the realization of it all, "You're my mate," his body stiffened against hers, "and I hate you for it," she whispered. Hot tears boiled into her eyes when he shook his head, "No you don't," he said.

His head cocked into the side of her neck, laying kisses down her collarbone, "No you don't Nesta Archeon," Her hands gripped the roots of his hair as he bit down on a soft piece of flesh triggering her to moan into his ear. Pressed up against his door she felt him harden against her as her moan grew. The hot tears still pooling in her eyes weren't going to be contained much longer.

"You're right," she said breathlessly, "You're my mate." She repeated feeling the jolt of joy come slithering down that bond, "and I love you all the more for it." Her hand had found the knob and twisted it making both of them stumble to their feet on the other side of the threshold. Somehow the door had shut behind him and another shriek came out of Nesta's mouth as Cassian hoisted her off of the floor and onto his bed.

Straddling her, he placed another kiss on her lips, "I love you too," his eyes smiled. Those rich hazel flames danced in his eyes as a true smile painted itself upon her face. As he ducked down for another kiss, her hands quickly began unbuttoning his tunic. She hadn't even noticed that Cassian had found the buttons to her dress until it was halfway discarded, "tricky bastard," she snarled into his mouth.

He chuckled lightly as he helped her remove the rest of his tunic. The shattered wings that still belonged to him were completely bare under his tunic. They both stiffened at this realization, "I wanted them to breathe," he whispered just loud enough so she could hear, "I didn't want to hide them anymore."

The hot tears that had been boiling in her ducts for so long nearly spilled over at the sight of them. They did however spill over when she sat up, her dress nearly gone, leaned forward and placed a kiss on one of his wings. It wasn't the exposure of her breasts that made him shudder against her as she placed another delicate kiss to the other wing. "I'm still healing," she said against his neck, the scalding hot tears finally falling down her cheeks, "but every piece of my shattered heart belongs to you."

With her words Nesta would later use the word 'ripped' to describe the way he removed the rest of her dress, he placed a kiss to the spot just above her heart, "I have been yours since the moment I met you, sweetheart." It wasn't long after that had they properly discarded the other ones underthings was he inside her. The sigh of pleasure that came from his mouth and the sharp pain that came from hers made him freeze. He had nearly forgotten this was her first time being with anyone.

"I'm fine," she shivered against him. She adjusted herself on top of him before clinging to his shoulders, soft moans were exchanged between each other as the hot tears fell down her cheeks and down his back. Her tears ran down his shoulder blades, they felt like balls of fire as they ran down his spine. His wings, his entire back felt like one great flame as her fingers ran through his hair. "Cassian," Cauldron his voice had never sounded more perfect. It sounded like a song he had stuck in his head for the last five hundred years, a song that would never leave his mind.

The sound of her moaning his name, begging him for that release is what undid them both. The bond between them fusing together at the connection their bodies shared. Even after their shared release they hadn't chosen to release the other from their arms. "You're my mate," Cassian whispered wiping away the last of Nesta's golden stained tears. They looked like golden flames against her skin, "Must be a part of the Cauldron's gift," he said showing her the magic that lingered on his finger.

"Is it just decorative?" she panted, still out of breath.

"I don't know," he laughed at her, "but we'll find out together," she smiled at him before kissing him once again.

Their hands continued exploring each other's body's until sleep had finally found them. Nesta sighed into Cassian's chest as the mixture of their scent, teakwood and pomegranates, filled her lungs. As Cassian nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck he felt no pain on his back or his shredded wings. He was able to sleep through the whole night without one twinge of pain. Nightmares of Hybern hadn't dared to bother either one of them that evening, and they thanks the Mother for it.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey everyone, I'm sorry it's been a while but I needed some time to clear my head and also im working like three jobs this summer so when I come home I literally just crash. Like I haven't even caught up on the game of thrones I've been so busy.

But yeah, I had been mirroring some scenes between rhys and feyre because I wanted to give Feyre and Nesta that connection for whenever they reunite. Rhys and Feyre are mates, soul mates and they're bound to each other and a lot of that is because elements of their relationship are extremely healthy and friendly and I wanted to translate that into this piece.

Secondly, I don't like writing 50 chapter fanfics. I just don't so if my story feels a little fast paced sometimes that's why. The novel I'm actually writing is far longer than any work I've published on here but I'm hoping that maybe I can stretch this out before you guys lose interest in me. I want to say thanks again for all of the support you guys have given me and want to send my sincerest apologies for not updating sooner.

I'm not going to post the Elucien spin off until the events start occurring in this fic… if that makes sense?

Also you guys are going to get a sweet Rhys and Nesta moment coming up.

Thanks,

Tay.

 **Chapter Five:**

It was his body shifting against hers that made her stir from a perfectly good dream. Their legs were still entwined when she rolled over to find him already looking at her. "Oh I see how it is," she teased making him grin at her tone, "I get reprimanded from wanting to watch you sleep but when you do it it's ok." He nodded, the grin still plastered on his face, "Well that's not fair is it?"

Cassain shrugged, "I can't help it you decided to sleep in until 11 o'clock," His arms began to pull her closer to him.

"Hmm," she hummed, "See that's the thing about me, don't wake me up before 9 o'clock unless it's for a very important reason."

"Does this count as a good enough reason," he said leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. A dream-like sigh sang from her lips when he pulled back. She wanted him, this man, this man that she loved. Her friend and now her lover; her mate that had sworn to protect her above all else it was enough to make her heart swell. She was sure that he would burn the whole world with her if she wanted to.

She smiled at the little confession she had made inside her head, "Yes, that may be the only reason I'll let you wake me up before 9 o'clock." Her eyes began to wander over his evenly toned body, the muscles across his chest and arms pulsed at her gazes. He noticed her eyes had grown incredibly wider when they passed over his wings, "What?" he asked.

"Look," she said, her hand reaching out for his wing. The webbed membrane was no longer in shreds, but it looked like it had been sewn back together with golden threads. When her fingers grazed against the healed wing, Cassian felt no pain. He finally looked over his shoulder and saw that his wings had been completely healed and his heart began to hammer erratically. "I think we know what my tears do now," she let out a soft chuckle.

His chest tightened, his mate, _his mate,_ had done this. The tears of pure happiness that had sprung from her eyes during the consummation of their love had healed his second most precious possession. "Thank you," he said choking on his own tears. Her delicate fingers reached up and wiped them away, a smile plastered wide across her face. "I love you," he shuddered, pressing her body even closer to him, "I love you so damn much."

"I know you do," she smirked into the crook of his neck. The smell of each other's sweat mingled in the air and passed through their lungs. And as Cassian pulled away from her, she felt herself lean into his touch. They sat there in silence as they admired the golden threads woven into his wings. "I have to be dreaming," he whispered after a few moments.

"No," Nesta said, "I wouldn't allow it to be a dream."

He smirked at her, as if she had the power over what he did and did not dream. "I would burn the whole world if we woke up and this was all an illusion," she told him.

Laying back on the bed Nesta groaned, "I'm starving," She was looking at him standing completely naked as he walked to his dresser. He tossed her one of his tunics; "Everyone will be at the townhouse today,"

She smiled sheepishly as she threw the dark green tunic over her head. His scent warming her heart as she watched him throw on a pair of leggings and a dark red tunic. His room had a balcony and the sky was calling his name, he looked at her with the biggest grin she had ever seen him wear.

"Absolutely not." She said, her tone as matter of fact as it could be.

"Your mate is an Illyrian sweetheart, you're going to have to get used to the whole flying thing."

Crossing her arms over her chest she bit her lip, "It's not that," she trailed off. "I don't know what my magic has exactly done to you…" He nodded, understanding where she was coming from, " I don't want the thing you love most to be striped away from you again if you're not fully healed. Get Rhys to look at it later today, or one of the healers."

"Ok," he growled plopping down next to her, "You win,"

She smiled sweetly as he wrapped his arms around her again, she could feel his hot breath against her neck. Cassian's eyes closed and he was so caught up in the moment he almost didn't feel her poking his sides. He opened one eye to meet hers, "I'm starving," she said.

"You don't have to tell me twice,"

"I just did," she rolled her eyes while poking his side again. "Alright," he huffed pulling her out of his bed with such spontaneity that she shrieked a giggle. He carried her all the way to the kitchen and sat her on top of the counter. He grabbed a few eggs and a pan but paused before her. "What?" She said still grinning at him.

"There's this tradition…"he paused again, biting his lips; trying to find the right way to say what he wanted to. His ember eyes flickered up at her and completely melted his heart. "If you… if you want to accept this. _This bond."_ Nesta swallowed as she felt a flicker of deep admiration down her spine. "Usually the female will offer the male food. I don't know why they just do,"

"I can't cook," she interrupted him.

The corners of his mouth turned up, "So I've heard," a beat of silence passed through the air, "I want to cook for you… if this is what you want."

Her eyes widened at the meaning behind everything, what it would mean for him to cook for her. What it would mean for him to serve her, to break tradition for his mate, to create something new and beautiful of their own. Nesta hadn't even notice her fingers began to cling to her heart and she hadn't even noticed how long it had been since he had spoken… Until he took a few steps back and began scratching the back of his neck, "You're right…" he laughed, "It's too soon,"

"No," Nesta hopped off of the counter and closed the distance he had just created, "I'm sorry," she said, "I want to, no I would be honored for you to cook for me." Her hand reached for his hand that was now resting on the back of his head, she pulled his knuckles down to her lips to which she kissed most ardently.

Cassian still felt as though he were floating inside one of his dreams. Perhaps in a number of moments he would wake up and find himself sleeping under a tree, like the one he would have to sleep under when he was in the camps. When he was just a bastard nobody. He couldn't breathe, what had he done to deserve what the Cauldron was giving him? A lifelong friend, an eternal flame, an endless storm to rumble against his chest for the rest of eternity.

Perhaps he would wake up as she was going to take the first bite of the omelet he was going to make her, or the last, he couldn't tell which one would be worse.

She sensed his distress at the same time he did, she squeezed the hand she still held while her other placed itself on his cheek. "Cas, what's wrong?"

How could he not tell her? She had revealed so many of her inner demons to him, it would be betrayal if didn't reveal his own. Even then he knew she wouldn't mention it if he brushed it off, it would be on her mind until he told her but she wouldn't press more if he told her not to. "I'm just thinking about when I was younger," he said.

A deep chuckle erupted from his mouth at the look on her face, "Not like that," he said, "Before Rhys and his mother took me in, I hadn't even thought something like this was possible." Her frown faded into the awe of him, "I love every inch of you Nesta Archeon and I don't know what I did to deserve you, mating bond or not."

"We deserve each other," Nesta said taking another step towards him, "Because we understand each other, we've craved that feeling our whole lives, you deserve the sky and everything below it Cassian." He clutched her hand against his chest so that she could feel how hard his heart was pounding. He could feel the thrash of her pulse against his thumb.

Her lips met his with heartbreaking gentleness and when she pulled away from him, from his touch she smirked, "Now I believe I was promised a meal so delicious it would convince me to stay with you for all eternity?"

Cassian nodded and began to work on their breakfast, well technically it was lunch; breakfast for lunch.

Quietly, she watched him move with utter preciseness. Everything had to be perfect; his brow was drawn right up to his eyelids he was so focused. He maybe spent about ten or fifteen minutes perfecting the presentation of an omelet and some potatoes before she snatched the plate away from him. She smiled utterly as she wiggled herself back on top of the counter top, Cassian paced in his place while rubbing the back of his neck muttering, "Are you sure?" to her multiple times before she yelled, "Yes! I'm pretty damn sure you idiot!" before he settled down.

He watched her take every bite of her meal, the egg swirling in her mouth. It was arguably the best meal she had ever eaten and it was made especially for her. Nesta ate every last bite of it as slow as possible, anything to tease him. When she swallowed her last bite and set her fork and plate atop the counter next to her she turned to him, grinning as wild as a Cheshire cat.

"What?" she said, "You're not going to say anything? Most of the time I can't get you to shut up…"

"I just can't believe this is happening."

"Well you better start because it's happening." She snapped at him. The sharp outburst had him lunging for her, and their mouths clashed together. Cassian pulled her so close that all that separated them was the tunics they wore.

From the corner of the kitchen came a stark cough, when the second and much louder couch came it caused the too to separate their mouths from each other. Their High Lord stood in the doorway, "I hate to interrupt such… festivities…" Rhys began.

"Come on Rhys, I never interrupted you and Feyre when you were both in your 'frenzy'" For the first time Cassian had Nesta blushing at the forwardness of their relationship.

Rhys nodded, "That you did, but I only came because something's happened." Rhys's eyes never reverted to Nesta's, hoping not to rouse any aggravation Cassian was currently building up in his system.

"What's happened?" Nesta growled, her fingers lightly gripping Cassian's shirt.

The High Lord pursed his lips; "Elain is missing,"

" _MISSING?"_ Nesta pushed her mate away from the counter and walked over to where Rhys was. If Rhys hadn't been there for her sister Cassian might have punched him square in the jaw for being so close to his mate. "How the _fuck_ is she missing!" Nesta screamed at Rhys.

As patiently as he could Rhys explained, "We don't know, there seems to be no signs of struggle but she's not in Velaris as far as we know."

"Well she can't have just walked out of the city!"

"Azriel is up and walking around again, he's trying to see if any of his spies in neighboring courts can keep an eye out for her. We have people searching other territories of the Night Court as well." Rhys placed a hand on Nesta's shoulder before removing it due to the growl that came from Cassian's direction. He exchanged apologetic looks with his High Lord, "We'll find her Nesta." Was all Rhys could say.

Nesta ran a hand through her hair, where was her sister? She had already lost one for the time being, she couldn't bear to lose another one.


End file.
